This morning I was asked by my wife to help one of her work colleagues. Her house has been badly damaged by the recent storms and she asked me if I could go to her house and help out. Knowing my aversion to any form of physical activity (even typing wears me out) I nevertheless reluctantly agreed.
When I got there I was greeted by the woman's 22-year old son. As we sat and talked before beginning work he looked at me closely and said "You were my year 10 English teacher!". We compared notes and, yes, he was a student at the Christian school I taught at back in 2001.
The guy is now studying drama at Newcastle Uni and wants to be an English/Drama teacher. Together we mucked out their smelly garage, discussing our favourite films and interests. I vaguely remember him, and am glad that I made some sort of impression (he is studying to be a teacher after all!)
When I got there I was greeted by the woman's 22-year old son. As we sat and talked before beginning work he looked at me closely and said "You were my year 10 English teacher!". We compared notes and, yes, he was a student at the Christian school I taught at back in 2001.
The guy is now studying drama at Newcastle Uni and wants to be an English/Drama teacher. Together we mucked out their smelly garage, discussing our favourite films and interests. I vaguely remember him, and am glad that I made some sort of impression (he is studying to be a teacher after all!)
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